On Autistic Representation in Superhero Comics
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Ought: The Journal of Autistic Culture Volume 1 Issue 2 Article 5 May 2020 Waiting for Autistic Superman: On Autistic Representation in Superhero Comics Robert Rozema Grand Valley State University, [email protected] Follow this and additional works at: https://scholarworks.gvsu.edu/ought Part of the English Language and Literature Commons Recommended Citation Rozema, Robert (2020) "Waiting for Autistic Superman: On Autistic Representation in Superhero Comics," Ought: The Journal of Autistic Culture: Vol. 1 : Iss. 2 , Article 5. Available at: https://scholarworks.gvsu.edu/ought/vol1/iss2/5 This Article is brought to you for free and open access by ScholarWorks@GVSU. It has been accepted for inclusion in Ought: The Journal of Autistic Culture by an authorized editor of ScholarWorks@GVSU. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Waiting for Autistic Superman: On Autistic Representation in Superhero Comics Robert Rozema, Ought Co-Editor n an August 2019 tweet, Greta Thunberg likened her Asperger syndrome to a “superpower,” invoking a term that first appeared, Inot surprisingly, during the Golden Age of American Comics. The Oxford English Dictionary tells us that the word was first used to mean “a fictional superhuman power, esp. possessed by a superhero” in the comic Supersnipe in 1945. The usage occurs when the comic’s protagonist, Supersnipe, warns two prison escapees that he’ll “use all of my [his] superpowers’’ to prevent their breakout (Marcoux, 1945, p.37). In reality, the character Supersnipe is a Walter Mitty figure, an imaginative boy conjuring fantasies derived from the comic books he loves. The final panel of the prisoner episode reveals that our hero is actually struggling against two real-world bullies who are trying to snap him out of his daydream. Supersnipe as a whole, then, is decidedly self-aware, even metafictional, a comic book about comic books decades before Watchmen. Moreover, the first use of the word superpower—its origin story, if you like—draws attention to the fictionality of this idea and its rootedness in the superhero genre. When Thunberg uses superpower to describe her autism, she is voicing a key tenet of the neurodiversity movement—namely, that neurological differences should be viewed as assets, not liabilities. Peter Smagorinsky (2016) has called his own autism his “Asperger’s Advantage,” for example, arguing that it has equipped him well for a career in academia (p. 53). As Thunberg herself wrote in the tweet, “I have Aspergers and that means I’m sometimes a bit different than the norm. And—given the right circumstances—being different is a superpower.” In this sense, Thunberg is right to view her own dedication and focus as extraordinary gifts that are part and parcel of her autism. Her tweet does prompt a deeper investigation, however, into the complicated relationship between superhero comics and neurological difference. Given Thunberg’s claim, it is crucial to ask how superhero comics, both historical and contemporary, have represented autism. Doing so means examining 10 ought Volume 1, Issue 2 Spring 2020 whether these comics reflect the advancement of medical knowledge, the accompanying increase in public awareness about the disability, and the emergence of autistic culture that have occurred in recent decades. Such an examination is important because, as Stuart Murray (2008) reminds us, cultural narratives about autism have the power to “reorient ideas about what autism might mean” (p.5). Murray notes the recent increase of “autistic presence” in a range of popular media, including film, television, and young adult and contemporary fiction. In the US, recent examples of representation include Atypical, a Netflix television series in its third season; The Accountant, a 2016 film starring Ben Affleck; and Lake Success, a 2018 novel by Gary Shteyngart. Not all of these fictional representations will have the outsized effect of the Rain Man (1988) or The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon (2003), two examples of autism “events” in Murray’s terminology (p.13), but collectively, they shape public understanding of autism. Consequently, superhero comics that feature autistic characters demand critical attention. My own analysis of autistic superheroes, who appear only rarely in comics, extends the work of Murray (2008), Loftis (2015), and Yergeau (2018), scholars who have examined the representation of autism in the popular media, classic and contemporary literature, scientific journals, and public discourse. To their work I add recent scholarship focused on the representation of other disabilities in literature (Quayson, 2007), in the comics medium (Foss, Grey, & Whalen, 2016), and particularly in the superhero genre (Alaniz, 2015). To my knowledge, the present essay is the first extended analysis of autistic characters in superhero comics, no doubt because autistic superheroes, at least explicitly identified ones, have been almost entirely missing from the pages of mainstream comics. As I discuss the presence and absence of autistic superheroes, their visibility and invisibility, I construct a provisional taxonomy of autistic representation in superhero comics, suggesting they appear in named, coded, claimed, and allegorical iterations. This essay focuses on illustrative examples of autistic superheroes from each category of representation. More specifically, I examine the first named autistic superhero to appear, Dehman Doosha, as well as the most famous named autistic superhero, Reed Richard/Mr. Fantastic. I also discuss two additional ought Volume 1, Issue 2 Spring 2020 11 superheroes who appear alongside Reed and Dehman—the coded autistic character Michael Crawley, and the allegorical autistic character the Thing. As we will see, there is a generative tension between overtly identified and implicit representations of autism in superhero comics, one that ultimately produces a deeper, more nuanced understanding of Thunberg’s claim of autism as a superpower. The Demon Within: Named Autistic Presence in Marvel’s New Universe The first explicitly named autistic character to appear in a superhero comic is Dehman Doosha (a.k.a. Johnny Do), a paranormal teenager who appears in Psi Force, one of the eight Marvel titles created for the short-lived New Universe (1986-1989). In most narratives containing named autistic characters, medical terminology is employed to explain the condition, and autism itself is central to characterization and plot development. Barry Levinson’s filmRain Man (1988) is the first significant example of a named representation. Within the first 20 minutes of the film, we learn from a facility psychiatrist at Wallbrook, the private institution where Raymond lives, that Raymond is an “autistic savant.” The drama of the remainder of the film, of course, results from Raymond’s autistic behaviors in hotels, restaurants, airports, and small towns. The vast majority of narratives with named characters like Raymond are written by neurotypical authors, though many have personal experiences with autistic family members or friends. Psi Force and Dehman Doosha were part of Marvel’s New Universe lineup, which was launched on its twenty-fifth anniversary with the intent of offering fans a world completely removed from other Marvel storyline and characters. In theory, these new titles were to be more realistic, offering a glimpse into “the universe outside your window,” in the words of then-editor Jim Shooter (as cited in Dallas & Sacks, 2013, p.153). Psi Force tells the story of five teenagers who gain paranormal abilities after a mysterious “White Event,” an earth-wide psychic shockwave. The teens—Wayne Tucker, Michael Crawley, Tyrone Jessup, Kathy Ling, and Anastasi Inyushin—each gain unique mental abilities. Collectively, the teenagers can summon a powerful psionic entity called the Psi Hawk, who appears in the form of Emmett Proudhawk, the 12 ought Volume 1, Issue 2 Spring 2020 deceased Native American founder of Psi Force. Their newly acquired powers make them highly coveted by military intelligence and other government organizations, and the plot of the 32 issues of the comic revolves around them fleeing or fighting these sinister agencies. Dehman Doosha is introduced near the end of the series, in issue 23, which was published in September of 1988, just three months prior to the theater release of Rain Man. Before this film brought public attention to autism, autistic characters were exceedingly rare, not just in film, but in any fictional narrative, including television and literature (Silberman, 2015). That Psi Force, a mainstream comic, included an autistic superhero in 1988, is quite remarkable in and of itself, given this scarcity of autistic representation. Why then might Fabian Nicieza, the chief writer of the later Psi Force issues, create an autistic superhero? One answer might lie in the history of Marvel Comics, whose iconic Silver Age characters were physically or psychologically flawed (Alaniz, 2015). The disabilities of these characters—Iron Man, Daredevil, Charles Xavier— were in fact by design, an essential part of the Stan Lee formula during the early 1960s, a deliberate gambit to add emotional depth, realism, and drama to the superhero genre, and a purposeful contrast to the mostly perfect superheroes of the Golden Age. Alaniz (2015) argues that many Marvel Silver Age characters with disabilities are given compensatory superpowers that allow them to succeed. Matt Murdock (Daredevil) is blinded in a childhood accident,